Stuff Actually Going Well? LIES!

Dear Journal:

I don't usually write stuff down, but apparently, this is a term of some plea agreement I made with the Iron Musketeers a few months ago after they decided to overlook that little "lewd conduct with a chocobo" charge. (Totally trumped up, might I add. They just have no vision!) Apparently, they think it's therapy... Me, I think it's a bit dangerous for anyone to have a written record of what goes on in my head, but hey, if it makes the good citizens of Bastok sleep more safely in their beds, then I'm all for it. A calm populace is one less likely to raise a stink over the shit I pull.

Oh! I guess I should introduce myself, Journal--just for posterity, you understand. My name is Alberic I Tavnazia, nephew of Altedour I Tavnazia, the late Marquis of Tavnazia. I'm known alternately as the Prophet of Bahamut, the Madman of Bastok, and "Hey! You! Crazy guy!" Among my many standout qualities are the ability to predict the future, a fine hand with needlepoint, an intense fear of the color yellow, and a smokin' hot Mithran fiancée named Mai Ikari, who surely deserves better. Unusual things I have accomplished in my life have been Vana'diel's first crystal synthesis vasectomy, survived multiple near-death experiences due to the voices in my head, and turned down no less than four offered threesomes from reasons ranging from topical insanity to a mild case of gangrene (on the penis). It's very nice to meet you, if one can be said to meet a book of blank parchment.

(Are you guys SURE this Journal is a good idea?)

This will probably blow your mind to hear, Journal, but things actually haven't been too shitty lately! Cae-cae (that's Caen'ir, the blind Kuluu brat) came to me the other day and mentioned that he finally sorted things out with Kreoss, thanks to stellar advice from Yours Truly. I simply told him that the best way to show your feelings to someone is by being REALLY honest, and grabbing their ass. Ass-grabs almost always sometimes work out well occasionally. But see, I recommended the ass-grab to him BECAUSE I knew it would work! Now, I'm trying to get those crazy kids in bed together, but for some reason Caen'ir turns red and runs away whenever I mention it. He's just being shy, I know he wants to.

The voices in my head ordered me some time ago to assassinate the royal family of San d'Oria, so I infiltrated the cathedral a week or so ago to get tabs on the Prince Regent, Pieuje. I have to admit, Pieuje reminds me a lot of my aunt, Leaute. Despite his outwardly cold demeanor, he has a tender inner side that he doesn't often show. His darker impulses seem to come from the Cathedral priests egging him on to grab power from his brother, Trion. I dabble in White Magic, so Pieuje and some of his Cathedral cronies sent me out hunting ghosts from Tavnazia. My poor people... but that wasn't even the worst of it.

Word got to San d'Oria that my uncle's spirit was wandering Fei'Yin. You can only imagine how that made me feel--I thought for a sec that I'd gotten socked in the gut unexpectedly. I haven't seen my uncle Altedour since the War, and I was only six or seven at the time of the fall of the Marquisate. Pieuje actually showed remorse and grief for the fate of the Tavnazians, something that kind of blew my mind given his usual arrogant demeanor, but of course his Cathedral buddies just blew that off and told him to use the opportunity to smash Uncle Altedour's ghost and earn greater prestige over Trion. Pfft, stupid politics--using my Uncle's tragedy as something for political gain! Disgusting red-lion traitors.

Needless to say, I snuck over to Fei'Yin and handled the exorcism myself. I wore a cowl so Uncle Altedour wouldn't recognize me, though of course he was maddened by his undeath and raged out of control. Once I put him down, though, for a second I saw awareness flood back into his glowing eyes, and he cried out for Tavnazia as his soul dissipated into light. Thank the Goddess he didn't see my face. I didn't think he'd like seeing what I've become.

Things are going great on the romantic front, as well. I'm not one to brag, but Mai is putty in my hands and we're moving in together before the wedding. I'm wrestling with the bureaucracy to get our wedding date set, but for some reason, stupid things keep coming up to block our way. That, and they're giving me some shit because Mai's been married before. I can't really say (though I've tried), "Hey, she's a widow, and I know you haven't found the body but I can see the future and I know he's not coming back." That doesn't seem to fly with the official-types.

Oh, and Caen'ir said Tsiife's back to normal too, so she'd best quit trying to kill me and steal my girl. I suppose if she's a good kitty, I can give back her sword.

That's about it from here, Journal. I've been having a persistent vision of the future that just won't go away, but I'll get into that next time. I don't want to ruin the good vibes yet; Goddess knows they're rare enough.

Stay black,

Alberic

P.S.: That chocobo was asking for it.